


Let it be me

by rufflefeather



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoilers for 2x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufflefeather/pseuds/rufflefeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything that happened, Stiles goes to see Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it be me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble that became a bit more lengthy. I just needed to deal with Stiles being hurt after Gerard got his hands on him. Unbeta'd. Title from [Let It Be Me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9V0JnuaRYkM&list=PL64C2E60009FE65CB&index=9&feature=plpp_video) by Ray LaMontagne.
> 
> For every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face  
> That's when you need someone, someone that you, you can call  
> When all your faith is gone... and it feels like you can't go on  
> Let it be me... let it be me…

“What are you doing here, Stiles,” Derek asks, pausing between two throws of the lacrosse ball against the wall. He draws his legs off the old wine crate functioning as coffee table but doesn’t stand up. 

“Wow, uh, yeah, hello to you too Derek, glad to see you survived the shit storm,” Stiles says and Derek almost feels bad. Almost. Stiles steps into the light that falls through the cracked window but stays near the door. He has his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his shoulders are hunched in the way that always makes him look smaller than he really is and his eyes flit restlessly across the room. It’s still burnt and it’s still dusty, but it beats the warehouse. Derek stays quiet, knows Stiles will start talking soon enough. He might even say why he’s here, if Derek’s lucky. He’s due some luck. “So Jackson’s a real wolf now, huh?”

“You were there,” Derek says and he can feel the wave of annoyance all the way across the room. He suppresses a smirk and begins bouncing the ball off the wall again.

“Yeah, I was,” Stiles says. There’s something in his voice Derek can’t identify but Stiles goes on before he can work it out. “What was with the blue eyes? I mean, Scott’s never went blue, that’s got to mean something right?”

“It does,” Derek says but he’s not going to enlighten Stiles of all people.

“Right,” Stiles bites out. “Fine. Whatever, don’t tell me then. I just came here to say that,” he swallows past something, a truth he doesn’t feel like sharing either probably, “that Gerard had Boyd and Erica. I don’t know where they are now, but maybe you should, I don’t know, look into that.”

Stiles turns on his heels, there’s a stutter to the movement, and goes.

“Stiles,” Derek says, sitting up. He doesn’t raise his voice but Stiles jerks to a halt as if he did anyway. Stiles turns around slowly, and the annoyance makes room for nerves, and even that is fraying at the corners, as if Stiles is balancing on the edge of perpetual panic. Derek really looks at him now, sees the fading purple of a black eye, the swelling of a lip that used to be bruised and a face that has lost too much weight. “And how exactly,” Derek asks him, rising to his feet, “would you know that?”

Stiles takes a deep breath, gets that expression on his face that always precedes a waterfall of words that mean absolutely nothing and usually comes with flailing limbs. Derek doesn’t know if it’s the sheer exhaustion that seeps out of Stiles’ pores or if for once he’s just listening to Derek, when Derek says, “The truth, Stiles,” and he completely deflates. His bottom lip wobbles and he takes a shaky breath.

“I can’t,” he says and it sounds so small, Derek is suddenly struck by how young Stiles really is.

“Yes you can,” Derek says. He puts a hand on Stiles’ arm and guides him to the sofa, but when he pulls to make him sit, Stiles flinches away. Derek doesn’t push, sits down himself because it seems important somehow, to be less threatening. “Go on.”

“I –– I saw them. When I was there. He, Gerard, had them strung up by electrical cables in his basement. They looked all right. I mean, they were scared but they weren’t bleeding or anything and Gerard said there was no use torturing them because they couldn’t give him you.”

About ten different thoughts fire through Derek’s brain but it snags on one; one that makes him see red. “And what were you doing there?”

Stiles shakes his head, opens his mouth but no sound comes out. The undercurrent of panic rises to the surface and if _Derek_ feels like he might drown in it...

“Strip.”

“What?” 

Stiles’ eyes go comically wide and he takes a step back.

“Either you take off your shirt or I’ll do it for you,” Derek says and Stiles laughs. It’s supposed to sound amused but the panic isn’t lessening. He takes another step back. “Do you really think you’re going to reach that door before me?”

Stiles closes his eyes and quietly says, “Derek, please.”

“Do it.”

Stiles’ shoulders drop, and then he carefully hooks his thumbs into the neck of his shirt and pulls it slowly over his head. Derek’s teeth gnash shut. There’s bruises all along Stiles’ left side, but they’re just bruises and by the way he was walking, Derek doubts his ribs are damaged.

“Turn around.”

It looks like Stiles is going to argue again but then he just shuffles his feet until he’s got his back to Derek. 

“Fuck,” Derek whispers. He’s on his feet and behind Stiles before it’s even conscious thought. “Does your dad know?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell him. It’s not… it’s not safe, for him to know.” Derek can understand that, remembers the feeling of having lost so much the need to protect what is left overwhelming and suffocating. 

“What about Scott.”

Stiles is silent and still for a long time, until he says, “No,” and nothing else. It surprises Derek a bit, because if Scott’s not with Derek, and he isn’t with Allison, why isn’t he by Stiles’ side? Why isn’t he protecting his pack? It makes Derek see red again and his eyes flick down to the long, blistering electrical burns on Stiles’ back. 

If he finds Gerard, he will kill him, for this alone.

“Isaac,” Derek says and Stiles looks over his shoulder, eyes questioning.

“What about him?” Stiles asks but just then Isaac appears in the doorway.

“What’s up?” he asks, looking from Derek to Stiles and back again. 

“Can you take some of his pain away?” Derek asks. 

Stiles makes a spluttering noise and his body jerks a bit. “Oh, no you don’t have to, it’s fine really, I just, there’s uh. It’ll heal.”

Isaac smiles at Stiles, lopsided and a little bashful. “It’s no trouble,” Isaac says, and out of all his betas, Derek is grateful Isaac stayed behind. Derek goes to stand in front of Stiles and they keep their eyes locked as Isaac puts a hand on his shoulder, as Stiles sucks in a surprised breath, as he says, “Oh my god,” and his face clears of some of the pain lines. 

“Better?” Isaac asks as the black lines fade from his veins.

“Much. Whoa, that was so cool. That’s a pretty useful trick you have there Isaac, thanks.” Stiles is straining to look at his own back. The burns will still be there, but they’ll hurt a lot less for a while.

“You’re welcome,” Isaac tells him and slips back out the door.

“You’ll be able to sleep, now,” Derek says and he doesn’t like the way Stiles’ eyes go pinched again. “And you need to eat.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, taking a deep breath. “I’ll just––“ he points at the door, “––and thanks.” He pulls his t-shirt back over his head and when he reemerges, Derek is standing much closer.

“Erica and Boyd chose to leave,” Derek tells him. He already knows he’ll go looking for them, he’s just… he’s not sure what he’s trying to do, but it’s something. “They’re no longer my responsibility.”

Stiles looks up at him and for a long time it seems like he’s not going to say anything at all, but then he breathes again like it’s an effort and, slowly, tiredly he says, “If that’s true, then I’m sorry man. I am. I know what pack means to you and especially with Scott––“ his jaw tightens and he looks away. “But they were scared out of their minds and they’re alone. They need –– they need someone. They need you.”

Derek nods once, he’s not sure why, but he feels like he understands Stiles a bit better suddenly. “I’ll look for them,” Derek says and Stiles begins to smile, slow and small. “And I’ll check in on you in a few days time.”

That surprises him again and Derek can feel Stiles’ heartbeat pick up a little. “Okay,” Stiles says, “I’d, I’d like that.”

Derek watches him go, can scent the softening around the panic for a long time after Stiles is gone. There’s a lot of things Derek needs to do. He can’t trust Peter, there’s an Alpha pack biding its time for god knows what. There’s Scott who he wants to trust but he just keeps letting him down, not to mention Gerard and the other Argents and whatever they may be planning. But Stiles seems the most urgent of all those things. Derek doesn’t know why, all he knows is he’s going to need Stiles in the future and Stiles needs him now.

“Isaac,” he says, “make sure you go see Stiles every two days until his burns are gone.”

“Sure Derek,” he hears and he smiles.


End file.
